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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28554756">Brat</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/JD_Centric/pseuds/%C5%BBeni'>Żeni (JD_Centric)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hetalia - Historical Notes [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hetalia: Axis Powers</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Conflict, Historical, Historical Hetalia, Historical References, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Political Alliances, Unresolved Sexual Tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-01-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-11 00:28:18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,508</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28554756</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/JD_Centric/pseuds/%C5%BBeni</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“Serbia can not continue expanding,” he declared, as if he had just made a final decision. “There can not be a third empire on the Balkan peninsula.”<br/> Byzantium agreed. There was no room for a third empire on the Balkan peninsula</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bulgaria (Hetalia)/Serbia (Hetalia), Bulgaria/Byzantine Empire (Hetalia)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Hetalia - Historical Notes [4]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079207</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Brat</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Okay, okay, three days, three drabbles - I am slowly going through my list of ideas, I can already tell 2021 will be the year I finally finish my entire list of planned works! So here you have, part three of the historical saga - I know, I know, I'm overusing the same characters but bear with only a third installment, cus' these ideas are the oldest ones that I just have to get out there, then we will be back to many more themes and a wider variety of characters! c:<br/>*Brat - not used in the English meaning of the word but of the Slavic one meaning brother; idea taken from the song of the same name in which Serbian singer Ceca sings about her love towards a man that considers her a sister, would recommend you hear it, it's really nice c:<br/>*Historically, there was turmoil between all three sides but it was only when the expansion of the Serbian kingdom became fact did both the Byzantine and Bulgarian empires form an alliance against the Serbs. Keep in mind that until then Bulgaria had once been a vassal of Byzantine, Bulgarians and Serbs had lead numerous wars, each side winning and losing equally, similar was the relationship between Byzantium and Bulgaria. It's worth mentioning though...that Serbia soon declared himself an empire and was at one point the largest nation on the peninsula, territorially c:</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> Miracles happened from time to time, even to immortal empires who had seen centuries pass and times change. In the case of Byzantium, a miracle meant seeing one insolent, reborn nation waltzing back into his court in Constantinople after decades of turmoil.</p><p> “He is causing us great anxiety!” Bulgaria babbled, a word a minute, when that afternoon Byzantium invited him to a private conversation in his bathing quarters. His voice echoed, jumping off the walls covered in intricate tile mosaics.</p><p> “He is a pest, a bother,” he kept on insulting, kicking his feet like a little child in the water of the pool. “And it is your fault, Empire! You gave him the right to grow and to rebel against me and not only that, you purposefully turned us against each other! For what? To have him raise his hand against both of us!”</p><p> “Could you <em>please</em> calm down,” Byzantium scolded him. Bulgaria might have been reborn a second time as an empire but his manners hadn’t gotten any better over the centuries. Though, Byzantium had to agree, maybe his tactics had backfired dramatically – apparently, trying to get two birds with one stone was rather impossible considering his two adversaries were both incredibly hotheaded but also oddly forgiving.</p><p> Lately, a new threat had emerged for both empires controlling the peninsula – a young nation that had been born out of a union between Slavic tribes and had, due to their shared blood and border, been relatively close to Bulgaria since, both in war and peace. He called himself Serbia and Byzantium saw no difference between him and Bulgaria – both were brats that knew how to bark but could barely bite with their baby teeth.</p><p> But since Byzantium’s main concern and priority in the last centuries had been Bulgaria’s capitulation and destruction, he had failed to see that Serbia, really, was slowly gaining strength and was becoming unpredictable. Having Bulgaria there again was bad news enough but having a second Slavic unity to claim his territories as his own brought a very bad taste to Byzantium’s mouth.</p><p> “Listen, Bulgaria,” he said, “do leave me out of this. Your personal relationship with Serbia is yours to deal with, I am content enough to watch you both go at each other’s throats when the time comes.”</p><p> “Says you,” Bulgaria frowned, “the one who allowed Serbia power and growth! And it might be easy standing aside and watching while I am the one that now owns more of you than you ever have!”</p><p> The empire raised a hand and shamelessly landed a harsh slap across the mouthy nation’s naked thigh, the harsh sound echoing through the bathing room following by Bulgaria’s loud exclamation of surprise and pain.</p><p> “Do not cross me,” Byzantium warned, keeping his heavy hand over Bulgaria’s thigh. “I have a question though – why did you come here to me? Your war with Serbia has ended, hasn’t it, and as far as I’m concerned, he married royalty into your palace, didn’t he? Aren’t you smart and bold enough to deal with his expansion on your own?”</p><p> “He did – the sister of his king will marry my emperor,” Bulgaria whined, “and the daughter of my emperor did become a consort of his kind, but…That’s hardly a sign of his loyalty to me, you made sure he was bold enough to stand against me! I can’t understand your calmness, Byzantium, and your lack of care, considering you have never had as little power and control as you do now.”</p><p> “Well, then why don’t you deal with this little problem by yourself then,” Byzantium said, after a long moment of consideration. It wasn’t as though he himself wasn’t just as worried by the young kingdom’s growth but the last centuries had been a constant struggle against both him and Bulgaria and wars just didn’t seem to be going anywhere – they needed a different approach and if Bulgaria was ready to be his ally again, maybe he could use that to his advantage.</p><p> “How?” the young nation asked, raising a brow.</p><p> “Well, as I said, he did marry royalty into your palace, thus you two are now related,” Byzantium explained, moving his hand soothingly up Bulgaria’s leg, revealing a bright red handprint. “You could use that to your advantage. You could perhaps get him to become an ally of yours and before you know it, he will be under your control.”</p><p> “I did once control Serbia,” Bulgaria admitted quietly, watching absently as the empire swam closer to him and began caressing lovingly the skin of his inner thighs. “He used to come to me, when he was little…And we ought to be related, yes!”</p><p> “You can still be in control of him, if you know how to properly use your power,” Byzantium said, lips moving along the much younger empire’s skin. “Where is Serbia now?”</p><p> “For the time of the marriage – in Tarnovo.”</p><p> “Perfect, then you can woo him on your private territory, on your terms and conditions.”</p><p> “Woo…him?” Bulgaria questioned naively, supposing that he had misunderstood Byzantium’s words.</p><p> The empire only rolled his eyes at him, “Should I really teach you even that! Yes, woo him, use your barbaric charm and make Serbia succumb to you. If he starts trusting you, it would be far easier to control him in the future.”</p><p> There was some logic in the empire’s words – there ought to be, considering Byzantium had been toying with both of them over the years, turning them against each other and delicately playing with them so he wouldn’t get his hands dirty with a war he feared he wouldn’t win. Having been under his rule once Bulgaria knew how the empire operated but he wasn’t yet certain that he liked the idea of using his dangerous tactics when dealing with their new neighbour.</p><p> “Maybe I can do that,” Bulgaria agreed, finally. “Yes, I could…I’ll treat him nicely, like a guest of mine. And before he knows it, he won’t be able to refuse me, a Bulgarian will sit in his throne!”</p><p> “Exactly,” nodded Byzantium, digging his warm hands under the satin cloth covering the younger nation. “Treat him like a very important and dear guest, as dearly as you would a brother. Give him all the comfort you can, take him hunting, never let his cup and plate be empty while in your care. I know you can do it.”</p><p> “I know I can do it.”</p><p> With a heavy sigh, Bulgaria lay back down on the cold tile and arched his back in pleasure when he felt the empire’s mouth on him, wet and warm. If he could only make Serbia feel as important as he did every time he came to meet the empire in privacy, then it wouldn’t be long before the kingdom found Constantinople in Bulgaria’s own heart.</p><p> </p><p> He had been born into a world of wolves, in times which were not anymore peaceful, and he had witnessed the rise and fall of kingdoms and empires at an age so young that he had begun to fear that he too wouldn’t live long.</p><p> But Serbia was a kingdom made and raised by stubborn and hotheaded people so he too was stubborn and when faced with a threat, he crushed it as mercilessly as others would’ve crushed him had they the chance.</p><p> Only one dared stand up against his rapid growth and while Serbia feared Byzantine’s knowledge and power, it was the Bulgarian empire whose downfall he would like to see. Serbia couldn’t call them enemies, not really, and Bulgaria had been there since his birth, had raised him – his hand had caressed gently and had cause pain when necessary. He was the only one who dared smack Serbia around, as if he hadn’t been under Byzantium’s boot just a few years ago. His arrogance tortured the young kingdom and made of him an ideal that always seemed to be out of his reach.</p><p> Now that Serbia was a kingdom and one of the new and strong powers on the peninsula, however, he had to act carefully – raw power barely mattered anymore. They lived in uncertain times, internal turmoil tortured both his neighbouring empires and it was time for Serbia to be smart and use his strengths to not only become but also remain one of the dominant constants.</p><p> His conflict with Bulgaria, one of many past ones and certainly not the last, had ended a year ago. It was time to think of securing a positive relationship with the empire, he was a force to be reconned with after all. Serbia told himself that and had reluctantly agreed to marry the sister of his king to the emperor of his neighbour, swallowing down the bitterness and forcing himself to enjoy the occasion – having an ally was always better than having an enemy, especial one that shared a border with you.</p><p> Taught that the world was full of people who would rather see you fail than push you foreword, however, Serbia was very cautious in the empire’s presence. He believed that Bulgaria, being older and having suffered the results of both wars and peace treaties, wouldn’t betray him during such a victory for both sides as a royal marriage but…One could never know and be certain. What worried Serbia was perhaps the same fact that the empire was older and had seen enough already to know what he was doing – if he wanted to push Serbia down, he would do it, gracefully.</p><p> Through his stay in Bulgaria’s capital though the empire had treated Serbia with nothing but respect – he showed him things, took him places, talked endlessly as if all between them was forgotten. He’d have to admit, catching up with Bulgaria, outside of the battlefield, was pleasant, they had what to talk about and unlike Byzantium, Bulgaria felt…closer, more real and natural in a way. They were, after all, born of the same seed.</p><p> In the day that the marital rites were completed finally, there was a celebration in the palace in the name of the two nations’ peace. They celebrated similarly, loudly, but Serbia felt rather uncomfortable, like a fish out of water in the empire’s capital. He couldn’t help but think Bulgaria’s sudden friendliness wasn’t merely a way for him to secure an ally but that there was also something else.</p><p> “You’re not drinking,” the empire said, walking over to where Serbia sat, observing the royal guests and the servants. “Why’s that? I thought you were a drinker, you’re already old enough. Bring us more wine!”</p><p> All it took was one word and a servant was immediately rushing to fill Serbia’s golden cup with the rich and aromatic alcohol. Bulgaria himself appeared already under the influence of not one cup of it as his handsome, boyish face was flushed and his grin reached almost from one ear to the other.</p><p> Serbia didn’t want to show rudeness and though he didn’t want to make himself drunk either in the home of what was now an ex-enemy, he only drank modestly, setting back down the cup after a single gulp.</p><p> “You don’t appear happy at all,” Bulgaria pointed out, noticing the young kingdom’s silence. “Have you not been enjoying yourself here? Or has one of my royals or servants insulted you?”</p><p> “I don’t feel in the mood to celebrate,” Serbia admitted, stoically. “Our negotiations have been all there was for me to celebrate here, not a marriage that I support but not fully.”</p><p> Hearing that Bulgaria bit back his laughter; Serbia was a kingdom, of course, but he behaved like a king, a selfish and arrogant one. Perhaps there was something in the air or the water that gave birth to such children there where they lived.</p><p> “A toast to our alliance, at least,” he urged Serbia to drink, noticing the lack of pleasure the kingdom did so with. Bulgaria could help but think about Byzantium’s words each time he was close to Serbia – he had to make sure his cup and plate were never empty.</p><p> “You know, Serbia, I think you and I have a lot in common,” he continued, with Byzantium in mind, the conversation. “I think it would be sad if we, by some horrible decision of our rulers, had to go to another war. Our people are one and the same, we speak a language so similar and worship Christ! I personally find no reason for our alliance to ever be broken.”</p><p> “What are you proposing?” Serbia asked and calmed by, perhaps, the fact that his wine wasn’t poisoned, he began to steadily drink more and more.</p><p> “A brotherly alliance,” replied the young empire with a confident smile. “I have been taught since my birth that in unity you find strength. And what better and stronger unity than the one between brothers, aren’t we ones?”</p><p> “Since when are we brothers?” Serbia exclaimed, not at all convinced by his drunk neighbour’s tone.</p><p> “I certainly will support you as one,” Bulgaria promised, “from now on and as long as I can be of service to you, if you allow it.”</p><p> He appeared and sounded genuine but, confidant and young, Serbia wasn’t ready to rely on anyone but himself.</p><p> “What if I don’t want your support as a brother?”</p><p> “Then…you won’t receive it. But you can’t ever deny the connection.”</p><p> Their cups were refilled many times that night and it became obvious soon that Serbia too was beginning to feel in the mood to celebrate their union. By the time they had to leave the dining hall, his head was spinning and his legs felt to him foreign and unsteady as they carried him down a stone hall. Barely he felt the presence of Bulgaria as the empire, just as unsteady as Serbia, tried to support him.</p><p> “You know that I can give you power,” the empire spoke, laying down the young kingdom on the bed in his chambers. He looked down at him with eyes bloodshot and hooded by the alcohol. “You’re a kingdom and I’m an empire – I can give you things you’ve never imagined. And you’ll give me things I want in return.”</p><p> “What do you want?” Serbia asked, his eyes closing now that his body lay motionless atop the soft bedding. His own words he heard muted.</p><p> “You,” was the empire’s reply and Serbia smiled, victoriously, realizing his importance.</p><p> The next day, haunted by their conversation of the evening, Serbia decided that the brotherhood Bulgaria spoke of couldn’t be possible between the two. While he wanted to make sure that he really was right, however, Bulgaria wouldn’t be there to talk to him. The following few days which Serbia spent in his capital he spent primarily alone, though Bulgaria did take him out hunting once – every evening they dined together but all Serbia could allow himself were childishly bitter glares every time he caught the empire ignoring him.</p><p> It insulted him to think it was on purpose but what had he done to make Bulgaria behave so distant? Maybe he had said something the night when Bulgaria had brought him to his room and he couldn’t remember? Whatever it was, Serbia was used to being the centre of attention and in the Bulgarian royal palace, he was suddenly anything but.</p><p> “I will be going home tomorrow,” swallowing his pride, Serbia began a conversation with his host the evening before he was meant to leave. “Now that our peace is official.”</p><p> “I do want an alliance with you,” Bulgaria, already a bit tipsy, replied. “It’s far better than war and a step above peace.”</p><p> “I…” Serbia hesitated, “I can’t make the decision on my own.”</p><p> “Are you sure about that?” The empire asked him, “Then…can I help you make the decision?”</p><p> He put his hand on Serbia’s shoulder and the kingdom knew for sure one thing – he didn’t want the empire as a brother.</p><p> That evening they drank as heavily as they had the night of their peace celebration and Bulgaria did offer Serbia a hand as he led him to his bedroom. He laid him there on the soft bed and, feeling as though he had been allowed something, he leaned over him to begin kissing wetly down the young kingdom’s neck. Serbia smelt clean, of forests and mountain waters – a breath of fresh air.</p><p> Serbia fought him only weakly, the heat of the other’s body so close to him and his hot breath tickling his skin making him just as dizzy and ill. He tried to kick his way out from underneath Bulgaria when he felt the empire impatiently tugging at the leather belts holding the layers of royal clothes only to have the empire wrap an arm around his shoulders to hold him in place.</p><p> “What’s wrong?” Bulgaria asked, looking down at the kingdom’s confused face that had suddenly gone pale.</p><p> “I feel ill…” Serbia mumbled, quietly, pushing weakly against the empire’s chest.</p><p> Aside from that he did nothing else and didn’t struggle further; only when he was fully naked from the waist up did Serbia again fill his stomach churn and this time, he mustered all his strength to push Bulgaria off himself.</p><p> He got off the bed so quickly that for a moment he was blinded and felt like he was falling either forward or backward on the hard stone floor. The poor kingdom’s hands found the support of the wall but before he could stand, Serbia threw up the contents of his upset stomach.</p><p> Bulgaria watched him from the bed while he choked and coughed weakly, his body shaking, and as much as he felt sorry for the poor nation, he also felt a pang of disgust, seeing the pool of vomit on the floor.</p><p> Deciding that he felt more sorry and concerned for Serbia, however, Bulgaria stood and went over to help his neighbouring kingdom back to the bed. He helped Serbia lay down and undressed him fully so he wouldn’t be warm anymore before retrieving for him a bronze cup of water to wash his mouth with.</p><p> There went his pleasant plans.</p><p> “I’m sorry,” Serbia mumbled, looking up at the empire through his bangs. “I didn’t mean to…”</p><p> “Just sleep,” Bulgaria advised dryly, running his hand through the boy’s hair. All he could think was the Byzantine empire and how horribly cocky he would be once he learned that he had gone overboard with his wooing.</p><p> Bulgaria lay down beside Serbia and caressed his naked shoulder and back, feeling as the skin grew cold steadily.</p><p> “This is no way to treat your brother,” Serbia warned him quietly, his eyes already closing.</p><p> “We both know that…brother or cousin or any other word of the same sort will never have meaning when concerning us.”</p><p> The young empire leaned down, again, kissed Serbia’s forehead and let him cover himself with the heavy cover before turning around and closing his own eyes.</p><p> </p><p> He returned to Byzantium soon after that, once Serbia’s growth began to puzzle and worry him. The empire welcomed Bulgaria as bitterly as always though that didn’t stop from being a good host and allowing Bulgaria a taste of all the sweetest things Constantinople had to offer.</p><p> “Have you made our unruly neighbour succumb?” He asked, one afternoon while the two sat facing each other on the table for dinner, the rich selection of finely prepared foods untouched.</p><p> “It didn’t work out as well as I imagined it would,” Bulgaria admitted, not going into detail, knowing that Byzantium would most definitely laugh at him.</p><p> “Have I taught you nothing!” The empire exclaimed before sighing loudly, “You really are…just incredible. So, what now? Since you apparently did such a great job with him, what do we do now?”</p><p> Playing nicely with Serbia considering the boy’s hunger for power would be impossible – he’d be strong enough to defeat both of them in no time now that they were much weaker politically. As much as Bulgaria liked and cherished him, Serbia couldn’t be allowed to become a factor on the Balkans.</p><p> There wasn’t enough room for all of them.</p><p> “You created him, you decide,” he told Byzantium and the other empire merely laughed.</p><p> “I let you live – apparently I make the same mistakes over and over because I am so good and loving.”</p><p> Bulgaria’s eyes became dark clouds and he frowned, unable to appreciate Byzantium’s humour in the current situation.</p><p> “Serbia can <em>not</em> continue expanding,” he declared, as if he had just made a final decision. “There can <em>not</em> be a third empire on the Balkan peninsula.”</p><p> He enjoyed the tone, he had heard it try to scare him many times but knowing how Bulgaria had trembled in his feet, Byzantium wasn’t a bit fearful of him. Serbia though should’ve feared both of them – their time wasn’t up yet and apparently, someone needed a good reminder that it was a bad idea biting the hand that could feed.</p><p> So Byzantium agreed. There was no room for a third empire on the Balkan peninsula.</p>
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